


(i wish i had) a pocket full of gold

by cylobaby27



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Coming Out, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Trans!Tim Drake, batfam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 13:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27
Summary: Jason finds out one of Tim's secrets when Tim is injured. It doesn't go as terribly as Tim expects.Or the one where Tim is trans, and falls into some brotherly bonding.





	(i wish i had) a pocket full of gold

It was nearly two in the morning, and Tim was thinking about how to fit an entire espresso machine in his utility belt.

 

On the internet forums he visited to laugh at Batman conspirators, he'd seen entire threads about all of the gear people guessed Bruce and the team kept in their uniforms. Some of the ideas--like a mini wifi router--had inspired real uses, but most were for laughs.

Tim could only imagine how much the internet would enjoy watching Red Robin press his own coffee beans on a rooftop.

Maybe he was getting delirious. He'd been sitting in the rafters of this warehouse waiting with the gang he'd been tracking all week for their new drug shipment to arrive for the last three hours, but the boat was delayed. There were a half dozen men below, with more on the way, but Tim didn't want to act until the shipment arrived.

Even with the warehouse overhead, the wind off the river was bitingly cold, and the exposed skin around Tim's mouth felt numb. Maybe Jason had the right idea with his Red Hood costume after all. Tim had always thought the full helmet was for the intimidation factor, but the vigilante wouldn't have been spending the stake-out dreaming of hot coffee.

A large shadow dropped into place on the rafters beside Tim, moving with impossible grace for his bulk.

Think of the devil.

"Hood," Tim greeted quietly.

"Little Bird," Jason said. In the two years since he'd been back in Gotham, Jason had gone from enemy to occasional ally. With Bruce, he still bounced between screaming matches and deliberate silence, but he'd been around to help the younger Bats when needed. He was unreliable, though, and rarely good news.

"Why are you here?"

"I've been tracking some drug manufacturers that are supposed to land here tonight. They're planning on bringing some bad stuff into the city, and I finally found the entry point. This new stuff would be a gamechanger if it makes it to the streets. It has to stop here. Are you planning on stepping on my toes here, Replacement?"

"I'm after the gang," Tim said. "I don't care what you do to the others." A lie, but only a small one. Jason hadn't killed anyone they knew of in almost a year, but Tim knew that bringing it up was a good way to spark a tantrum in the other hero.

"Hm," Jason said. "Where are the other Robinettes? Lurking nearby?"

Tim shook his head.

"This is a solo mish? There are a lot of big guys with guns down there, Little Bird. Are you supposed to be out this late on your own?"

"Asshole," Tim muttered.

Jason gasped dramatically, though quiet enough not to alert the gang milling twenty feet below them.

"Damian was being a brat tonight," Tim admitted after a moment. "We got into a spat, and he went off in a huff to patrol on his own. I couldn't give up this take-down just because he was in a mood."

Jason hummed. "And you didn't call in one of the other kiddos because...?"

"Because I can handle things myself," he snapped. That had been part of his bickering with Damian. Damian was his brother, and he loved him, but sometimes he was such a sanctimonious, cocky little prick that Tim wanted to strangle him. You didn't have to be raised by assassins to be a good fighter, no matter what Damian thought.

"Sure, sure," Jason said. "I'm sure this has nothing to do with proving-- Look. There's the boat."

A rickety steamboat pulled up to the warehouse dock. If it hadn't been for the location, it could have passed as an old man's fishing vessel, but Tim knew the stack of crates along the rails weren't as innocent as they looked. More men stepped off the small boat than Tim had expected, making the total number in the area a round dozen. The gang below stepped into action, grinding out their cigarettes and going over to help unload the drugs.

"Let's stop this shit from hitting the streets," Jason said, and he dropped to the warehouse floor below with his guns blazing.

"I had a _plan_ ," Tim muttered, but followed suit.

He tossed a smoke grenade down a few feet ahead of him to mask where he landed, and then swept through it to take down one of the larger gang members with a surprise hit. From his surveillance, he knew which members were going to be the biggest risk during a fight, and wanted to get them incapacitated first.

Fighting with Jason was nothing like fighting with the other Bats. In addition to the rattle of bullets-- all aimed non-lethally, though with damning precision-- Jason was allergic to teamwork. During his time away, he'd unlearned every lesson about having each other's backs that Bruce had taught him, and tended to fight like he was the only person in the room.

Tim kicked a gun out of a short man's hand, and then punched him in the temple to knock him out. He heard a footstep behind him, and ducked just in time to avoid the knife that slashed through the air where his neck had been. Turning, he punched the man in the stomach, making him lose his breath and drop the weapon.

Closer to the dock, Jason was working his way methodically and brutally through the half-dozen men gathered there. Tim probably could have taken out the entire group on his own, with enough surprise on his side, but it was nice to have Jason there to help. Focusing on making sure no one got away through the warehouse, Tim kicked off a stack of crates to get leverage on one of the taller gang members, taking him to the ground with a move Cass had taught him.

At his place close to the front of the warehouse, Tim heard the door creak open, and then the distinctive sound as something metallic was tossed inside and rolled across the concrete toward them. A quick glance confirmed what his ears had told him; it was an explosive.

Shit. Tim had been sure from his survelliance that the man on guard outside the warehouse was the kind who would bolt when Red Robin dropped in to stop their plans. Clearly, the man had different orders.

Had they realized Tim and Jason were hunting them, or was this gang so determined to keep their new drugs out of rivals' hands that they'd planned this move in case of any interruption? The guard had seemed shifty, but in a cowardly way, not like he was planning to actively betray the gang.

Even as he was mentally sorting through the twist, Tim was turning on his heel and running toward the dock. He hesitated when he passed one of the men he'd knocked out when he'd first dropped down. He was too close to the door; he'd be killed if Tim didn't help.

"Fuck," Tim groaned.

Quickly, he grabbed the gangbanger and pulled him sideways so they were both partially blocked from the grenade by a stack of crates.

Just as Tim ducked, the bomb went off, sending a rippling, concussive flame out across the warehouse.

Tim had a moment to realize that the bomb was more powerful than he'd expected and to hope that Jason had stayed out of range before the crates behind them toppled forward from the blast.

Then, all was black.

 

#

 

Tim woke up somewhere soft and dark. He gasped into consciousness, muscles tensed to finish the fight. He was in an unfamiliar room, tucked into someone's bed.

"Relax, kid," said Jason, walking into the room. He had a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of asprin in the other. "Glad you're awake. You had me worried for a bit there. For future reference, try to run _away_ from explosions, okay?"

"What--"

"The blast took out half the warehouse, including two of the gang members you'd been tracking. The cops showed up quickly after to take care of the rest, and all of the drugs. Don't worry. I added some trackers to the crates to make sure they all really end up in GPD custody."

"Where are we?"

"I couldn't tell how badly you were cut up, so I brought you back to my place to patch you up. I gave Oracle a heads-up so the Batfam wouldn't panic. She thought you were still with Damian, so she seemed pretty pissed off. She wanted me to take you back to the mansion, but I hung up." He shrugged, like hanging up on the Oracle was something people without death wishes _did_ , and handed Tim the water.

"This is your apartment?" Tim asked, looking around with renewed interest. Now that he wasn't searching specifically for enemies, he realized it was a pretty nice place. There was a large bookcase against one wall, and a rack of guns on another. There was a half-open wardrobe on one side of the room and a nightstand covered in bloody bandages and suture gear.

For some reason, he'd imagined Jason living somewhere more transient, but this apartment seemed settled into.

From what Tim knew, none of the other bats had ever been inside. He wasn't sure whether his presence was a sign that Jason was putting out a hand of friendship, or if he'd just been determined to avoid the Cave.

Tim patted his forehead, where he found a bandage covering his left temple.

"It's not too bad," Jason told him. "It looked worse than it was. You know head wounds. Your leg was what was really worrying me. You got some debris from the crates in your thigh, and it was too close to an artery for comfort. Luckily, it missed it, and I was able to close you up with some butterfly bandages. Good luck for you. I'm shit with needles. I can't do Alfred's tiny, neat stitches."

Tim shrugged, grateful it hadn't been worse, and then absorbed what he'd said. He realized, suddenly, why there was a blanket tucked up to his waist.

Quickly enough to spark a headache, Tim untucked the blanket and lifted it. The armor plates for his top right thigh and crotch were missing. He was wearing the same expensive sweat-wicking underwear that everyone on the team wore, but the tight black fabric wasn't enough to hide what _wasn't_ under his uniform.

"I used extra antiseptic. I've heard that you're more sensitive to infections and shit, and don't need Bruce coming to whine that I did a half-assed job."

"You should have taken me back to the Cave," Tim snapped, voice suddenly hoarse. "Where's my armor?"

Silently, Jason pointed to the nightstand, where the armor was sitting in plain view.

"I-- Okay," Tim said, trying to wrangle his emotions back under control.

"I wasn't stripping you for shits and giggles, nerd," Jason said. "It's not a big deal."

Tim couldn't stop himself from looking at Jason at that.

Whatever Jason saw in his expression made him repeat, "It's not a big deal, Replacement. I didn't know, but that's not the sort of thing you would have told me. Though I hope this is a _Boys Don't Cry_ situation and not _Mulan_ , because you know that the Robin mantle isn't a gender thing."

Of course Tim knew that he wouldn't have been left out of Batman's team if he'd been a girl. Cass and Stephanie were there, and no one ever questioned their place. But that wasn't what this was. Tim tucked the blankets back tight against his legs. "It's none of your business, Jason."

"True," Jason said. "Just seemed like you wanted to talk it out. I don't care."

Tim blinked at him. Jason seemed so casual about it all.

"What?" Jason challenged. "No need to look so stunned. Did you expect me to go on a transphobic rant or something? I'm an asshole, but for a reason."

"I..."

"I lived on the streets, and I still work there every day. You know what percent of kids that are on the streets were kicked out of their homes for being some flavor of LGBT? You're not the first trans kid I've ever met, Timbo. I didn't know before. Now I do. No. Big. Deal."

"I wasn't keeping it a secret from you specifically," Tim ventured.

"You can't tell me nobody else knows. You live with a bunch of detectives."

"Bruce and Alfred know, obviously. No one else does. Or if they do, they haven't said anything. Cass has probably figured it out, but I don't think she'd want to tackle the language nuances if she doesn't have to. I don't think she cares either way."

"You think the other guys would? Have you _met_ Dick?"

"Have you met Damian?"

"How have you even avoided getting an injury like this before?" Jason asked. "Keeping it a secret has to be more complicated than trying to explain it."

"Alfred is the one who stitches me up, when it's not big enough for Doc Thompson," Tim said. "No reason for the boys to be around. I know it would be easier if I didn't have..." He gestured to his chest and then vaguely toward his lap. "Jack, my birth father, would never have allowed it. He loved that I acted like a tomboy so he never had to figure out how to deal with girls, but he didn't want to deal with me being _weird_." Jason looked like he was about to interject there, so Tim pressed on, "Bruce was supportive as soon as we met though. He always called me what I wanted to be called, even in mixed company. Once I lived with him, he offered to pay for the surgery, obviously."

Tim waited for the mention of Bruce to spark some derision from Jason, but he just said, "Obviously."

"It's not like I don't want it," Tim said. "But the recovery time is insane, and I don't want to step away from being a Robin for that long. I can't."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Jason pointed out.

"Right. I know. I just..."

"Don't get to talk about it much?" Jason finished.

Tim laughed weakly. "Well, no. Sorry."

"Like, I said, I get it. It's no one's business, and especially not mine, right?"

"You might as well know," Tim said softly. "I've got to tell all my brothers eventually. Might as well start with you."

Jason looked surprised for a beat, and then ruffled his hair. "Shut up," he said, but it was affectionate. "If you do tell the other guys, let me know if Damian is a jerk about it. I love having an excuse to kick his ass."

"As if you need one," Tim laughed.

Shaking his head, Jason said, "Come on, Replacement. Take your pain meds so I can get you out of my hair."

Tim finally accepted the bottle of aspirin. He’d get some stronger medicine at the Cave if he needed it, but this would be enough to get him home. “Thanks, Jason,” he said, more seriously than just the medicine accounted for.

Jason smirked, deflecting the sincerity. “Let’s not make it a habit, Little Bird. I already wash enough of my own blood off my sheets. I’m not here to play nursemaid for lost bats.”

Tim just shook his head. He wasn't fooled.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://starknjarvis27.tumblr.com/)!


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